


The Dream Walker

by huvudrollen



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Deaths, Fantasy, Multi, Murder, Serial Killer Sherlock, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:32:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1262995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huvudrollen/pseuds/huvudrollen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody could explain the deaths of them. Perfectly normal and healthy people died in there sleep. They just died without no explanation. At first it hadn’t bothered anyone. Cause everyone assumed that they died of a stroke or something else that could kill you in your sleep. But nobody knew the truth. Only the dead souls knew. They knew about the tall man with night black curls. And eyes like galaxies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dream Walker

**Author's Note:**

> So i got this idea a couple of days ago. I felt that i had to write this. So in a day i wrote Chapter one. So the idea is that Sherlock has this power of going through dream landscapes and kill people in there sleep. And then when he is about to kill John. That is when he falls in love. You see this is a love story (kind of) with a lot of murder. 
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Nobody could explain the deaths of them. Perfectly normal and healthy people died in there sleep. They just died without no explanation. At first it hadn’t bothered anyone. Cause everyone assumed that they died of a stroke or something else that could kill you in your sleep. But nobody knew the truth. Only the dead souls knew. They knew about the tall man with night black curls. And eyes like galaxies.

It had started out so innocent. When Sherlock was 7 years old. That was when he visited a dream landscape for the first time. It was Mycroft’s landscape. A library filled with books and memories. It had been such an overwhelming experience to walk around in that big library and just see. He visited over and over again. Always finding new things about he’s brother that one day could be really useful.

It wasn’t until a year later that Mycroft saw him. Sherlock was 8 years old and scrolled through the memory of Mycroft’s first kiss. He was caught in the act. Both of the brothers stared at each other in shock. Everything that had went so smooth now in a whole year. Hiding from he’s brother wasn’t hard. But now that was when he felt how the whole dream landscape fell apart. He let out a scared cry as Mycroft started chasing him through the falling bookshelf’s. And when Mycroft finally caught him. That was when Sherlock pulled him self out.

He stayed alone in he’s room the whole day. Skipping dinner and tea. It wasn’t until  
the evening that Mycroft came. He sat down next to Sherlock who had been sitting by the window the whole day. ”I am not angry at you” he stated. As if that was the most important thing for Sherlock to know. Maybe it was. He’s face and eyes were all swollen after all the crying. ”You have a gift Sherlock i hope you know that” Mycroft said. The younger brother still having he’s face buried in he’s knees. Sometimes Mycroft was really understanding and actually tried to show some love for he’s younger brother. Mycroft was now stroking he’s back with he’s hand. ”You have to be really careful with you gift, cause it makes you different” he said. Sherlock hadn’t said a word. ”And you are already more different then everyone else”. Was that all he cared about ? Not standing out. Just be another wave in the ocean ? Sherlock looked now up at he’s brother. ”W..Why cant we be different ?” Sherlock asked with a shaky voice. Mycroft stroked he brothers curls. And then kissed he’s forehead. ”I have already told you why”

Seconds minutes hours days years went by. Sherlock who still didn’t know what he was capable to do. He got he’s diagnosis. Aspergers that then turned out to give him the mark Sociopath. That was i side of him that would show later on in he’s life. He went into collage. He went to a public community college in London. Even if he could get into every college in England. But it was because he wanted to feel normal for once in he’s life. He studied science and chemistry. It was those things he was good at. Things that interested him. Their dad was the same when he lived. He did many experiments in he’s lab. With the three year old Sherlock studying him with big eyes. He was as weird and brilliant as he’ s son was. But then he got killed and left Sherlock alone.

It was in university that he met Molly Hooper. She was a sweet girl who was obsessed with cats and other sugar sweet things. Molly was the first person who wanted to be he’s friend. She was really nice to him. They shared a dorm together. You could really see which part of the room that she lived. It was covered in cat pictures and pink things. She made a cup of tea every morning for Sherlock. It was really sweet with a spoon of honey and two sugar bites. She made him like two sugar bites in everything.

One night they decided to break into the london morgue. Sherlock had something he wanted to check. An experiment. He loved to experiment with things. But it was when he told he’s child phycologist about the road kills he examined. For her it sounded like ”I kill animals because i get of on it”. It was definitely not what he said. Molly’s dad worked at the morgue. So if they would get caught they at least had him. It all went fine for hours. The both friends pretended that they were surgeons. They examined a body that had been murdered. Sherlocks eyes were wide of wonder and joy. It was the most interesting thing he had ever done. But then they got caught.

They waited in the principals office for what felt like hours. Molly cried. They both knew that they would get kicked out of college. ”Oh Sherlock what have we done” she cried. But Sherlocks eyes were too focused on the clock that sat on the wall. He felt strange. It was a burning pain in he’s bones. ”Molly i may be dying my bones hurt” he said. It was in a try of easing up the moment. But it made Molly smile. ”Well then you are lucky if you will have died before we get in there” she said. They giggled for a moment. But Sherlock never died before they got in there. Still feeling that strange feeling that reminded him of something a long time ago. A memory that he had tried to delete but it was burned in he’s brain.

”What where you two thinking about!” the principal said. She had been yelling at them for ten minutes now. Molly had cried. But Sherlock had been staring the principal in the eyes. She had very blue eyes. Long lashes that was like trees around the blue sea. Her eyes was like seas. He could feel now the smell of trees and woods. He opened he’s eyes. And there he was. He stood on the beach of a big sea in the woods. But this was different then he’s brothers library. He knew what he was doing. He had blacked out he’s principal! Molly where probably sitting in confusion of that they had fallen asleep. Small birds were flying in the air and tweeting small songs. Small puffs of dust where flying around. It was memories that where forgotten. He didn’t know that he’s principal was and outdoor person. What he knew that these landscapes reflected the persons personality. That is why Mycroft had a library. Cause he was like a library of knowledge.

He didn’t knew Emma Brown the woman that was he’s principal. The person that owned this dream landscape. He found her sitting on a stone. She had a white dress that was so soft as feathers. She was beautiful with her blonde hair and red cheeks. He remembered the anger he had felt in the conscious world. He took a stone from the ground and then hit her head in with it. He felt no feeling and no regret. When she then laid on the ground. Her open skull and blood in a big puddle. Her blue eyes where open and she saw nothing. She was dead. You killed her Sherlock. He had blood over he’s chest. Blood in he’s hair. Tears dripped down from he’s cheek. Oh what had he done ?

When he came back to conciseness he found Molly still crying. He looked up from he’s feet. And saw how Mrs Brown laid dead over her desk. Molly where crying hysterically. ”S..S...S...Sherlock you have blood over the whole you!” She cried. It was true. He had become a killer and had now blood over him. He rushed out of the room. It was too small. He couldn’t breath. He went out of the building. He cried. It felt like that terrible day when he was 8. He cried in he’s knees. Looked up at the sky. He wished to be normal. But it was something he would never get. Normality was too expensive.


End file.
